


Queen Under the Mountain

by queenmidalah



Series: Queen Under the Mountain [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:25:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9791753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenmidalah/pseuds/queenmidalah
Summary: "There will be no King Under the Mountain."





	

**Author's Note:**

> As of right now, this is a one-shot. I have no idea if I will expand on it or not.

Candles glittered off the mountain's cavernous walls within the tomb of Durin's folks' forefathers, bouncing off the too-still features of the three heirs laying on stone blocks. The blocks were engraved with Khuzdul runes, describing who lay there. Thorin Oakenshield lay on the center stone, Orcrist tucked under his right arm and the Arkenstone resting between his hands. His nephews were on either side of him, their swords resting on their chests beneath clasped hands.

Grief and sorrow were thick within the chamber as each member of the Company paid their last respects. Standing off to the side stood two wizards and the skin changer, Beorn. The dwarves of the Iron Hills stood above in the auditorium, looking down as they flanked and supported the new King Under the Mountain, Dáin.

Gandalf saw a small look from Balin before he spoke. "The King is dead," he said, his voice echoing off the chamber walls.

Balin stepped forward, unsheathing his sword and lifting it to where Dáin stood. "Long Live the King!"

Before the others could lift their weapons to echo the chant, a single voice spoke out.

"No."

All heads turned to the opening of the chamber, a soft whisper washing over the dwarrows. Members of the Company, save Bilbo, sunk to a knee. Those of the Iron Hills did not move until they saw Dáin sink to his knee, despite the crown on his head.

Bilbo couldn't breathe. He simply stared at the dwarrowdam that stood just inside the chamber. While he had never met her, he would be a fool not to know that this was Dís, for she was as striking in appearance as her brother. She looked so much like him that one would have wondered if the two had shared a womb together, if they did not already know that Dís was the youngest of Thráin's children. That she was the mother of Fíli and Kíli. His attention was caught by another dwarrowdam that stepped in just behind Dís. His breath caught again as he saw the same blonde locks and playful brown eyes; a combination of the two brothers. 

The dwarves rose when Dís waved her hand slightly, eyes intent on the three bodies in the chamber. She walked over and rested her fingers against Fíli's forehead, moving to stroke an errant lock of gold hair. They watched her other hand clench at her side before she moved past Thorin's body to Kíli's. Like with her eldest son, she rested her fingers against his forehead, caressing his brow. Her eyes squeezed shut and a choked sob attempted to slip past her lips. She heard the shuffle of feet and lifted her hand to still them.

Slowly turning, she took the few steps between Kíli's body to Thorin's. Too many emotions to understand passed over her face, including grief, anger, and pain. Her pale blue eyes fell on the Arkenstone between Thorin's hands. Her jaw tightened as she moved her fingers up along her brother's arm to cover the stone. She stared at it, her body trembling some before her voice rang clearly through the chamber.

"There will be no King Under the Mountain."

The dwarves of the Iron Hills began to shout in protest, some snarling at the audacity in her words to say anything. Gandalf, for his part, watched Dáin before his eyes drifted to Dís, her head having turned to also look at the dwarrow. He lifted his hand to quiet his dwarves.

"Surely you cannot let this fema--," one of his dwarves started to say before he received a slashing look from Dáin and a snarl from where Dwalin stood.

"That female you speak of is Dís, daughter of Thráin, son of Thror. Sister to Thorin Oakenshield and mother to Fíli and Kíli," he said. "Not to mention my cousin. Tread lightly."

"But she attempts to deny you your right!" the dwarf argued. He quickly bowed and added a small "my lord" when he was wacked by one of his fellow soldiers.

"I deny him nothing," Dís said as she turned to face the dwarves. "I do not deny who he is meant to be, but it has been made clear that the males of Durins' line are not fit to rule." Dáin arched a brow.

"This stone," Dís said, lifting the Arkenstone that she had extracted from her brother's hands. "Has brought nothing but corruption and greed to a line of dwarrow that already showed signs of gold sickness for generations. It was not until my grandfather, Thror, that it became so deep and so obvious. Yet it is only those along the spear thread of this line that are affected. I wish I could say that Thorin was not affected by it, nor that my sons would not be. However, I know the corruption this gold and this bloody stone did to my grandfather and to my father. The pull my brother, both brothers, had to it in hopes of getting this mountain back. My boys may have been able to resist its temptations for a while, but not forever. Its hold ends now."

"And what do you suggest?" Gandalf couldn't help but ask. "Not only of the Stone's fate, but that of the mountain?"

"This stone will be removed from this mountain," Dís said. "By another female and taken to where it can be destroyed or hidden." She looked at Gandalf. "Do you know of one who can destroy or hide it, Thrâkun?"

"Aye that I do. I also know of who can take it to her," Gandalf said. "One who will be all too glad to remove it from this mountain."

"Good," Dís said. She looked at the Iron Hill dwarves once more. "As for the mountain. Line of succession will henceforth move from the male generation to the female, starting with me."

Noise erupted in the cavern, despite its sacred and somber purpose. Many voice were outraged, throwing insults to the dwarrowdam. While Dís remained calm, the young blonde dwarrowdam watched with tension, her hand resting on the hilt of the sword at her side.

Dáin and Dís never stopped looking at each other. When the dwarves of the Iron Hills realized that their leader was remaining passively silent, they all quieted and turned to watch how he would handle the situation.

When history would be written about how the first Queen Under the Mountain came to power, no one would ever be able to adequately describe the shock and awe that ran through their very bones when Dáin Ironfoot, Lord of the Iron Hills bent to one knee and placed his hand over his heart. Lowering his head, he slipped the gold and black raven crown from his head and rested it at his foot before he spoke.

"LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!"


End file.
